


Clean

by kitcaliber



Series: You and Your Star [2]
Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: BDSM, Established Relationship, Oral Sex, Other, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-16 16:10:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8108869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitcaliber/pseuds/kitcaliber
Summary: All you'd wanted to do was take a damn shower.





	

**Author's Note:**

> After the (in my opinion) rousing success of my first work, I felt like writing and sharing more of my robo-smut. I hope it doesn't suck. See ya in the end-notes lmao

The door to your private washroom slid closed behind you with a barely audible _hiss_ as you walked forwards and began your routine. You carefully selected soaps and waxes from the cabinet before placing them in the basket next to the shower before setting out your favorite set of soft towels. You turned the shower on and held a hand underneath it, gauging the temperature; it only took a short time before it was to your liking, and you moved to step beneath the stream.

A hand on your waist stopped you, and you nearly jumped out of your plating. He must have come in after you turned the shower on – effectively muting the sound of the door.

“Starscream, don’t do that…what do you want?”

He simply wrapped his arms around your waist and bent down to chuckle softly into your audial. “Oh, don’t mind me…I simply thought that it might be a better idea to get dirty _before_ getting clean. That’s all,” he purred. You didn’t need to see his face to know he was wearing a smirk a mile wide. “What do you think?”

“I think…” Your voice was a bit strained, and you paused before taking a deep invent to clear out the butterflies that suddenly developed in your abdomen. “I think that’s…a very efficient idea.”

“Hm? You don’t sound very _interested,_ my dear…” He teased, knowing full well you were interested. “Are you saying you wouldn’t want me to…do _this_?” You had about half a second’s warning before one of his hands left its place on your waist and thin talons traced light patterns across the front of your interface panel. You gasped and reflexively leaned forwards, but he pulled you back. “That’s what I thought, pet.” He reached over and shut off the shower with the hand that wasn’t currently occupied with teasing your still-closed panel. “Why don’t you turn around, take a step back, and open your panel for me?”

The sensation on your panel stopped, and it seemed like it took a second to register; you complied, doing exactly what he said, but the absence of a chiding remark reassured you that your reaction time was well within acceptable boundaries.

“Very good, pet…very good.” He looked you up and down for a moment, a hand on his chin as if he were deep in thought. Well, he may very well have been, but you doubted it on a majority of levels. Your own train of thought was derailed by his sudden command.

“Spread.”

You heard your own exhaust fans kick up a notch as you stepped your legs apart.

“Further.”

You complied, but not without a confused expression – which he seemingly just ignored.

“You can do better than that, can’t you, pet?”

The cycle of command and compliance continued until your legs were so far apart it felt difficult to remain upright.

“Perfect. Well done, pet,” he praised, a scheming smile on his face. “I want you to stay still and keep your optics focused on mine, understood?”

“Y-Yes, Master.”

As soon as the words were out of your mouth, you gasped and arched your back at the feeling of his clawtips brushing at the slick, swollen folds of your valve. Your arms shot out behind you, your hands placed firmly against the wall to brace yourself.

A whine escaped your vocalizer as the sensation stopped. He gave you a disapproving look as he reached into his subspace. “Pet, I thought I told you to stay still. Didn’t I?”

“Y-Yes, but—”

He placed an index finger over your lips to silence you. “No buts, pet. Did I, or did I not, tell you to stay still?”

“…Y-Yes, you did, Master.”

“That’s what I thought. Arms up.”

Hesitantly, you removed your palms from the wall and raised your hands above your head. He moved so quickly you didn’t understand what was going on until the sound of handcuffs powering on met your audials. A flash of panic ran through your processor and your coolant seemed to freeze in its lines for a moment as your arms were involuntarily stretched out to their full length, and you found yourself unable to pull them back down.

“B-But…I’ll fall…!”

He reached out and gently caressed your face. “My dear pet, do you really think I’d let you fall?”

You timidly shook your head, but couldn’t get your vocalizer to put your thoughts to words.

“Of course I wouldn’t. Now remember – don’t move and optics on mine.”

“Y…Yes, Master.”

Once again, his clawtips started to very lightly dance around your sensitive valve folds, and you let out a long, low moan as your optics slowly shut themselves.

They snapped back open when you felt a stinging pain blossom on your node, drawing from you a loud cry. Starscream was scowling down at you.

“I _said,_ optics on mine. I can’t believe I have to explain this to you, pet, but that means no looking away _or_ closing them. Is this understood?”

Your voice was shaky with need. “Y-Yes, Master…”

“One more slip and I’ll be forced to punish you. You don’t want that, do you, my lovely little pet?”

“N-No, Master, I-I don’t...”

His expression softened considerably. “I didn’t think you would. Now, where was I? Ah, yes…”

You involuntarily let out a high-pitched whine as he returned to teasing your wet sex. It slowly intensified, and your thighs started to shake with the impulse to clamp shut – an action that was impossible in your current position. Somehow, you managed to hold your gaze steady on his optics despite your body curling inwards as far as it was allowed, though it took what seemed like every last ounce of your willpower. You realized your arms were struggling with their bonds, pulling in every direction you could, and little whines kept escaping your vocalizer before you could catch them, which only served to deepen your embarrassment.

“Oh, how I love these sounds you make, my pet…” he said as his mischievous smile deepened. You weren’t totally sure, but part of you thought you heard the sound of retracting plating…not that you could look to check. “Tell me something…do you want an overload, pet?”

Venting deeply at this point, you nodded, accompanied by an unusually desperate-sounding whine.

“Tell me.”

“I w-wa…want…” His fingers didn’t slow down and you could barely focus as he rubbed tiny circles over your node. You were running too low on spare processor power to be able to form words properly, resulting in your stuttering. “W-Want to…o-v-ver…load…p-please, M-Master…”

“And so polite, too. Very good, pet.” You cried out in frustration and rocked back and forth – well, as far as you could, anyway – when he removed his hand altogether. “Oh, look at you…so desperate…well, I don’t think you’ve _earned_ an overload yet. After all, you have had problems following orders today,” he said, matter-of-factly, and you felt the fire of shame in your processor grow ever stronger. “So, I have a task for you. If you complete it to my satisfaction, I’ll be much more likely to allow you an overload. Are you ready, my dear pet?” He gently held your face in one hand while he spoke, thumb rubbing slowly up and down.

You were nodding your head before he’d even finished the question, which made him chuckle quietly. “Eager, I see. And I haven’t even told you what it is yet. No matter…” He moved his hand to the back of your head and started to bend you over forwards. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out quickly enough. On the plus side, pet, I’m allowing you to look away from my optics for this…don’t need you hurting yourself trying to keep a steady gaze, now, do we? Alright, sweetspark…open up.”

You weren’t sure why exactly you opened your mouth, but you did, and immediately felt something push its way inside – something you instantly recognized as his spike. With a long, low moan, he moved his hands to either side of your head to gently hold you steady as you started to work, realizing, with a shiver down your spinal strut, that his “task” was to give him an overload using nothing but your mouth. Your calipers cycled down onto nothing, wanting nothing more than for that spike to be stuffed into your valve instead.

Optics now blessedly closed, you drew back as far as you could, lubricant-coated glossa dragging slowly along biolights and teasing the tip, before diving forwards and taking him to the hilt. He let out another low moan and moved one hand to caress your cheek. “Oh, _yes,_ that’s _perfect…_ yes, just like that…very good, my pet…”

His moaning and encouragement made you feel more determined, yet _dirtier_ at the same time; another flash of need traveled through you, making it feel – for one strange second – as if there were butterflies inside the tanks nearest your interface array. Your pace quickened; as much as you loved sucking that spike, you were desperate for an overload, and the sooner his was over, the sooner you’d have yours.

Ignoring the burning in your thighs and the slight ache in your shoulders, you intently worked the entire length of his spike, moving yourself back and forth as far as your current position allowed, glossa working every sensitive spot you could get to. Once he started to shiver, ever so slightly, you would have smiled had your mouth not been full.

Suddenly, he spoke again, voice low and just about growling with need.

“Don’t swallow. Hold it.”

Your optics flew open and you caught yourself making a sound of confusion before he pulled out almost completely, the head of his spike barely resting on your bottom lip – pointing into your open mouth – as he came with a long, shuddering moan, releasing thick strands of transfluid, mostly into your waiting mouth. The little bit that overshot landed on your face, one optic closing as some was about to splatter onto it.

“You did _great,_ my dear pet…” he murmured, optics half-lidded, looking down at you lovingly. “And you look so good wearing it like that.”

All you could do was look up at him with your one open optic and your mouth open, showing off the small pool of transfluid he’d left there, the taste hot and heavy on your glossa.

“How does it taste, pet? Do you like it?”

Your remaining optic twitched as you gave a couple of very small nods, not wanting to move too much and lose some of the precious transfluid coating your mouth.

“Go ahead and swallow it for me, pet.”

You closed your mouth as you tilted your head back a bit and finally swallowed, feeling the thick liquid slide down your throat before your head dropped forward and your mouth opened, glossa lolling out.

“Very good. You’ve done well, pet,” he said softly, starting to gently wipe your face with a soft cloth. “I bet you want that overload now, don’t you?”

You nodded slowly, your exhaustion starting to show. Without another word, he wrapped one arm around your waist and reached above you with the other. The cuffs were powered off and, before you could react, your arms fell onto him with a _clank_ and you collapsed forwards against him. In one fluid motion, he lifted you into the air, weakened legs falling together. Ever so gently, he turned and placed you on the floor, facing the showerhead, leaning against the back wall.

He turned the shower back on before sinking to his knees and moving towards you as you relaxed under the warm rush of water against your plating, optics closing. “It’s your turn now,” you heard him say before laying down on his stomach and carefully moving your legs onto his shoulders, his arms around them, hands on your inner thighs, talons starting to lightly trace the seams in your plating. Dazed but curious, you looked down to see what he was doing.

“Mh, wha…what’re—ah...ah! _OH-!”_

Your head nearly flew backwards, hitting the wall with a dull _thunk_ sound as his glossa flicked your node – and didn’t stop. Your hands frantically started searching for something to do – one settled for resting on the back of his head, the other over your optics.

Suddenly, he stopped, and you whined loudly in disappointment as you peered out from behind your fingers to see what was going on. He unwound an arm from around your leg and reached up to gently pull your hand down.

“Don’t cover your beautiful face,” he said simply, interlacing his fingers with yours as he returned his attention to your swollen node.

It didn’t take long before you were utterly lost in the feeling. His pace kept changing periodically, sometimes overwhelmingly fast, others devilishly slow. You moaned and whined practically nonstop, wordlessly begging him to just hurry up and finish it. On some level, though, you knew he had other plans – he was going to do everything in his power to give you the most intense overload possible.

Finally, during a set of particularly quick, short flicks, you felt yourself nearing the point of no return. “I’m…I’m gonna…” You stuttered, trying to let him know. He squeezed your hand tighter, out of both acknowledgement and reassurance.

Mere seconds passed before you found yourself nearly screaming, hips bucking uncontrollably – or trying to from beneath his iron grip, anyway – and frame shaking as your overload hit hard, your processor full of static, optics offline. You just lay there, letting the feeling of absolute bliss soak into every single bit of you as he didn’t stop licking at your node until your frame lay still.

Your optics came back online just in time to see him pull his head from between your legs, using the back of one hand to clean the lubricant from his face, smiling up at you. He untangled himself from your legs and turned to sit against the side wall before pulling you into his lap, back supported by one arm, his hand resting against your waist. You let your heavy head fall against his shoulder, optics closed, and he gave you a kiss on the forehead; you honestly could have fallen into recharge right there, what with the combination of a warm shower, a loving embrace, exhaustion, and the residual bliss from an overload.

You were dimly aware that his other arm was moving, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care too much – at least, until you felt something soft start to rub at your upper arm. Onlining your optics again, you peered over to see what was happening.

“S…Starscream? What’s this?”

In one hand, he held a scrubbing cloth with telltale soap bubbles on it. Putting two and two together, you reasoned that what he’d been doing with his other arm was getting that cloth ready.

“You didn’t think I’d leave you alone after all that, did you?” He asked, smiling down at you while continuing to rub at your arm. “Just relax, my love. Let me take care of you, okay?”

You returned the smile, optics half-lidded as you practically melted into him. “On one condition.”

“And what would that be, dearest?”

“After you’re done, you take me back into the other room and lay me down on the berth…before fragging me into it until I scream for mercy. Twice.”

His optics brightened considerably – either he couldn’t hide his excitement, or didn’t want to hide it.

“I love you so much.”

You let out a small giggle. “I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope I didn't fuck it up too bad, I have an image to uphold now lmao
> 
> I wanna put all these into a series, but I haven't yet decided what to call it. "A Love Story with a Truckload of Porn" is the best thing i could come up with, but i'm not sure if that really "fits," yknow? :P But yes, that's practically a promise there's more coming.
> 
> If you made it this far, thanks for reading! <3


End file.
